


Like Water On Mars

by joanlocked



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: M/M, Mild Sexual Content, POV Oliver (Call Me By Your Name), Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23542435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joanlocked/pseuds/joanlocked
Summary: I'd like to try and draw your faceBut it's like pulling a sword out of a stoneI'd like to try and live in your eyesAnd dream until we get tired
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Comments: 22
Kudos: 45





	Like Water On Mars

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Come l'acqua su Marte](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21321961) by [joanlocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joanlocked/pseuds/joanlocked). 



> A few months ago I drew inspiration from a song to write and post a story. It came out naturally in my mother tongue and I toyed with the idea of translating it for a while but ultimately never got around to it.  
> The place where I live isn't witnessing a great historic moment from any standpoint now but there has got to be a silver lining somewhere and at least I suddenly found myself with a loooooot of time on my hands to deal with some unfinished businness.  
> The song is Duemila volte by Marco Mengoni, [give it a listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvbF8sgpk8M) if you have a couple minutes to spare, it's gorgeous and a perfect fit for Elio and Oliver!
> 
> If you speak Italian you might want to read the original version instead, see the link above!
> 
> Many thanks to **Cee** for the precious, precious help ♥

Six in the morning in B. was different from six in the morning back home. It was far more pleasing though, compared to the cramped and dank apartment back in the bustling city, that wasn’t saying very much. Back there, this time of day only served as a reference point, marking for the end of an all-nighter and the start of a very long and much needed nap. But here, I could take in the peaceful atmosphere, surrounded by the sun-soaked trees, the dirt tracks, the bright green grass, the natural beauties that were as much simple as unhoped-for in the proverbial asphalt jungle that was home. 

Elio waved a hand in front of my face, distracting me from my thoughts. “So?” He asked, waiting for the answer to a question that I missed.

“So what?” I shifted my focus right back to the colors of dawn, this time studying the effect they had on Elio's eyes, disheveled hair, and cheeks, still red from alcohol and exertion.

"Forget it, obviously there's nobody home tonight," Elio snorted with a half smile and opened the door to the villa, hopping up the stairs before I could point out, as I saw the sun peaking out over the horizon, that the night was over.

It was true, I had - we had, actually - had a lot to drink. Thanks to Chiara's boombox, the party lingered in the streets long after Le Danzing’s closed. My high tolerance to alcohol thankfully spared me from any regretful consequences, but the same couldn't be said of Elio, who I had to keep from tripping or falling with every few steps, slamming the doors, or doing anything disruptive that would wake up the whole house. By some miracle, I managed to get him back to our room safely. 

“I want a cigarette,” he said under his breath, but he still made a face and brought his forefinger to his lips in the gesture that internationally meant “keep quiet!”.

I rolled my eyes. “You smoked an entire pack already,” I said, knowing perfectly well that it was a waste of breath.

“So what? I want another one.”

Elio started rummaging around in my pockets, first on one side, then the other, before going through the first one again, huffing in frustration with each unsuccessful attempt. I laughed and dug in my back pocket, took out a pack, flipped it open and tilted it towards him. Elio sighed happily, but his coordination failed him when he tried to grab a cigarette with his mouth and ended up taking three. We both laughed. I leaned over, trying to snag one back from him with my mouth - an operation made difficult by the fact that Elio would not stop chuckling - and put the remaining one back in the box before fishing out a lighter to light the cigarettes for us both.

Elio hurried to the window to let out the smoke. I was not as well-mannered and stayed on the bed, watching the way the fumes hovered in the air, blending with the pale morning light that illuminated the crystal ashtray beside the bed, the colorful fragments refracting throughout the room. 

I noticed that the ashtray needed emptying. The previous night, before heading out, we had lain down on our sheets, fully dressed, smoking, talking and laughing softly as if we were violating some rule, despite nothing had happened that would have made us blush if Mafalda, or anyone else for that matter, suddenly opened the door and caught us red-handed.

Elio turned to look at me, but said nothing. I got up and went to stand beside him by the window. He rested his head on my shoulder, the way girls usually did in the movies. “I want you to leave me this shirt, when you go,” he said, tilting his neck and biting my shoulder, just to mark the piece of clothing he was talking about. 

I laughed. “This one too?”

“Yes,” he said, with one of his big smiles. “And this,” he continued, bringing a hand to my belt and pulling at it weakly, “and this.” He closed a fist in my pants. “And this and this and this and this -” He laughed and started tickling me until I surrendered and let him have his way. It was times like these, and only after he had had a drink or two, that I could catch a glimpse of the seventeen-year-old Elio. It usually left me with mixed feelings I preferred not to dwell on. 

Elio managed to calm his laughter and took another drag. “You'll have to go naked if I keep everything. Maybe they won't even let you get on that plane.” He didn't stop smiling, but he didn't look at me either. “Public decency and all.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue in mock disapproval.

My smile dissolved in an instant, like an actor breaking character the moment the camera cut. We only had a few days left and had yet to breach the subject, both acting as if it was irrelevant, a sentiment that Elio assumed we both shared. Looking at his sunlit profile, I thought to myself: there was no universe in which that was true.

I couldn’t speak. I brought my hand to his face, forced him to turn to me and kissed him, inhaling the smoke that he hadn't had time to exhale. I saw him drop his unfinished cigarette so that he could wrap his hands around my neck, cling to me, and kiss me the way he hadn't been able to all night.

_I'd like to find dawn inside this bed_   
_When we come back at six in the morning_   
_You look at me and you tell me you want_   
_Another cigarette_   
_A perfect life_   
_My shirt_

* * *

By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late.

I never talked about fate. I never believed in it. But what else could have led me to Elio's room at six in the morning just after I'd spent the whole night debating whether or not to go to him, and eventually deciding against it, only to enter his room accidentally after using the bathroom? Carelessness? A force of habit?

At some point in time, it had been my room, _our room_. 

It was my fault, in a way. I had insisted that Elio not move all his things to the other room, explaining that I was staying over only for a few days. _“I'l_ _l take the smaller room. It’s no problem_ ,” I had told the Perlmans, earning from Elio a piercing stare, which left me with no doubt that he knew exactly what I was doing.

I wondered if Elio would ever believe that I had entered his room mistaking it for mine because I was distracted or tired. It was early, after all. If luck was on my side, he would be sleeping and I wouldn’t have to do any explaining.

But no. This so-called fate was really giving me a thrashing.

I was in his room now. Elio was awake and wearing thick pajamas, and even though it was December, it was strange to see him like that - without sunglasses resting on his nose, without a swimsuit, without a sleeveless shirt to take off at the first hint of sultry heat and slip back on with the setting sun. I banished those thoughts quickly. I knew Elio didn't live in a bell jar, I knew his existence was not limited to those few weeks and precious few nights that I was lucky enough to share with him. I knew that his life had gone on after that summer, as it should, but the reality of it still made me feel so gutted and lost.

He was half lying on the bed, his back against the headboard and reading a book when I interrupted. The bedside lamp was on, as there was still more than an hour to go before dawn. He looked tired, like he hadn’t been able to get a wink of sleep last night, just like me.

“Oliver.” His voice carried no emotion except the obvious feeling of surprise, but I still felt a shiver run down my spine. Since my arrival, he had done nothing but avoid me - and perhaps, due to my shame, I hadn't created many opportunities for us to share the same room for longer than necessary. Who the guilty party was in this case was irrelevant. The outcome didn't change; there had been no occasion for him to call my name.

“Elio,” I finally managed to say. “Sorry, I wasn't thinking and opened the wrong door. I didn't mean-”

“Oliver,” he repeated, firmly this time. “It’s fine. What are you doing still awake?” He must have noticed that I was wearing yesterday's clothes. It touched me to know that he was paying attention despite his attempts to avoid my gaze all day.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, and again without thinking, I closed the door behind me and stepped closer to the bed. If Elio minded, he didn't show it.

“Bad sleep schedule these days.” By _these days_ , he probably meant _since you arrived_.

He closed the book and placed it on the bed, then raised his knees and hugged them to his chest. I noticed that he was wearing terry socks and another shirt underneath his warm pajamas. I couldn't help but think that fucking these days would take much more time and effort. In the summer, we were always naked and ready on a whim - his, usually. Again, I forced myself to quell these thoughts.

“And you?” he asked, when I didn't reply.

“I couldn't sleep either,” I said. 

I bit my lip, thinking about how to start the talk I _hadn't_ come for.

“Looks like you haven't tried at all,” Elio said, with a spot of amusement in his voice.

I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. 

“I was thinking about you,” I said, before I could change my mind. He clearly didn't expect such a direct answer, if his expression was anything to go by. “I've been thinking about it all night, whether to come here or not,” I continued, wanting to keep myself from turning on my heels and leaving. “I thought about it for a long time, then it got so late, and I gave up. But here I am, anyway. It was an accident, and I didn’t intend to -”

“Wait,” Elio said, raising his hand for me to stop. I thought he would be furious - that he would yell at me, that he'd tell me I had no right to say a damn thing when just a couple of days ago I had told him that I was getting married and I had rejected him, even knowing that I had never wanted anything in my life the way I wanted him in that moment. I thought that maybe he was even mad enough to hit me, kick me, push me out of his room. I would have deserved it.

Instead, in the calmest tone, he said, “I need a cigarette.”

It caught me off guard. I started searching my pants, suspecting that I might have run out. The sleepless nights had not been without their massive nicotine hits. Luckily, I discovered that I had a couple left. I handed him one, directly in his hand to avoid anything awkward, and lit another for myself.

Elio got up and opened the window despite the frigid temperature outside. He didn't ask for my lighter and used the one he had lying on the drawer. I stayed where I was, cowardly, thinking that talking to his back, from a distance, would make things easier.

“Go ahead,” he said, after a moment of silence.

“I don't want this to be a fight,” I said. He turned around abruptly, face scrunched up and ready to snap.

It was my turn to stop him. “Please don’t talk,” I said, softly but firmly.

It was enough to silence him.

“I don't want this to be a fight,” I repeated. “I know you have a lot to complain about, but if you don’t let me say this now, I’ll never find the courage to bring it up again. So please let me finish.”

Elio sighed, visibly annoyed, but took another drag and nodded.

There was no more of this back and forth, no more room for misinterpretation.

“I love you,” I said, without hesitation. I had never said this to anyone before, but it came so easy and gave me such relief, as if I had just come up for air after having spent an eternity swimming up towards the surface.

Elio looked up, and the glimmer in his eyes told me that he was listening intently.

“I love you, and I'm not going to pretend that I don't because we've already had our fair share of lies and omissions already.” I could feel the lump in my throat and forced myself to take a breath, trying to compose myself without losing my resolve. Though still respectfully silent, Elio’s gaze showed that he was begging me to continue. 

The cigarette was still burning in my fingers; the excess ash would soon fall on the floor. Elio walked over and quietly handed me his crystal ashtray, then returned to his spot on the bed. I stubbed my cigarette out carefully and put the ashtray back in its place.

“What I need you to understand is that whether I love you or not won’t change anything,” I said, feeling my courage wane. I was already running short on the determination that I’d gathered from earlier. “It's over, Elio. I'll get married. I'll get married, and you'll find someone, and soon I’ll just be another student among many who stayed with your family for the summer. _What was his name again? That cocky blond guy who did nothing but work on his book and play poker. Oh, he also fucked me every now and then, but aside from that, a monumental bore_.”

Elio snorted despite the tears in his eyes. I tried not to linger over that.

“You are so young, Elio. You are gorgeous, smart, funny. I can assure you that anyone who'll get the chance to share their life with you will feel so lucky to have you.”

Elio laughed this time, and a tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away in an instant, as if it had never been there.

“So please,” I continued, hoping with all my heart that my voice would hold up, that it wouldn't break. “Please stop avoiding me and acting like I'm being irrational because we both knew perfectly from the start that this,” I quickly pointed at him and then at myself, “had no future. And it’s no one's fault, Elio. It’s just what it is.”

It was done. 

“That’s all.” I said.

Elio just nodded.

“Is there anything you want to say?”

He hesitated for a short moment, then shook his head.

“Very well,” I said, then turned to head out. I didn't trust my impulses then, not while Elio was there on his bed with his knees tight against his chest, looking most vulnerable. I knew I had to leave, quickly.

“Oliver?”

I stopped in my tracks.

I was dreading and even more foolishly hoping to hear those words - the ones we both knew deep down to be true.

_I love you, too._

I could read it in his eyes, see him open his mouth to say it.

But in the end, Elio looked down and shook his head. “Nothing. It doesn't matter.”

So I could leave.

 _I_ _need to lose you_  
 _To come and look for you_  
 _Two thousand more times_  
 _Even if you are far away now_

* * *

Maybe it was nostalgia speaking, clouding my judgment and overloading my senses, because despite all the years that had passed since that summer, B. was exactly as I remembered it.

I wasn't sure that was a good thing, not when I was there visiting with Micol and the kids. The place was able to stir in me feelings that I usually kept repressed, locked away and hidden, and yet here they were now, back again stronger than ever. 

I was thirty-five, and I was also twenty-four.

Maybe the setting had nothing to do with how I felt. Maybe this was another issue entirely.

Elio wasn’t supposed to be there. It had been a wonderful surprise for Annella, who had told me that he had decided to take a few weeks off to visit them in B., which just happened to coincide with my arrival. His smile seemed sincere, and he greeted me with enthusiasm and proceeded to introduce himself to my children, my wife, treating them all with a kind of genuine affection that made me feel like shit. 

I knew him, though.

I waited for the break of dawn to knock on the door to his room, the one that once belonged to his grandfather, and entered without waiting for an answer. Elio was awake, already dressed and looking out the window. A small part of me knew that he was waiting for me. He confirmed my suspicions with a smile, moving to one side to make room for me.

“It's weird,” I finally said when, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, it became clear to me that Elio had no intention of saying anything, “to sleep with them in that room.”

He turned to me, smiling. “I don't envy you at all.”

We both laughed.

“Do you still smoke?” he asked.

“I quit years ago,” I said, then paused for a moment and thought, _fuck it_ , “I could really use one right now.” A minute later, we were both holding one between our fingers.

“Do you mind?” I asked him, without bothering to elaborate.

Elio tapped his cigarette. “No,” He sounded uncertain and surprised by his own answer. “I can't deny that it feels weird though.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No need for me to ask you how you feel... here, with such a beautiful family. I’m sure you don't regret anything.”

“Don't be silly. You know perfectly well-”

He raised a finger to his lips, and I instantly fell silent. “How about we stay here in silence? Let’s not say anything.” He wasn't annoyed - far from it, and upon realizing this, I fell silent and put to rest what was better left unsaid.

I knew that Elio was absorbed in his thoughts because he forgot about his cigarette altogether, letting it burn slowly between his fingers, mostly ash now. Mine was the same. 

_We may even remain in silence_   
_While it burns slowly and forget about it all_   
_We may even let go of fear_   
_We will close our eyes and jump_

I tossed away my cigarette and did the same with Elio's so that he wouldn’t accidently burn his skin. Elio seized that opportunity to grab my shirt and pull me closer. “Say anything, and I'll kill you,” and later I would say that it was all him - that I wasn't expecting this at all, that I had been caught off guard and that it wasn't my intention, but as we were kissing I wasn't sure who started it, him or me, or if that even mattered since I was just as eager a participant. I was holding his face with one hand and grabbing his hair with the other, clinging to him with my tongue in his mouth, on his neck, everywhere. Even when I found myself without a shirt, I couldn't remember exactly who pulled it off. I couldn’t tell whose fingers were unbuttoning his pants. All was lost in a blur of passion and limbs.

We had sex there, on the desk. Elio had never been good at keeping quiet during sex, so I helped him stifle his moans with my mouth and hands. “Shhh,” I whispered against his lips. I noticed that the sheets of paper, the pens and the books that once graced his desk were now scattered all over the floor. I had to have thrown that all aside to make room for him in the heat of the moment. Later I would worry, I would think that I behaved like a fool, that I acted recklessly. All Micol had to do was to confuse Elio's door for the bathroom, and she would've seen us. 

Later.

In that moment, I was too preoccupied, grabbing his thighs, urging him to spread them wider, as I knew he liked it. I slid my hands down to his legs, lifting them up so that he could wrap them behind my back, so that I could be inside him as deep as our bodies would allow.

I had done exactly what Elio had asked of me. I hadn't uttered a single word.

_I need to forgive you_   
_To be able to touch you_   
_Even if just for one night_   
_Even if we are alone_   
_Like water on Mars_

* * *

The tenuous light of dawn touched upon the unmade bed, and as soon as Elio opened the window, the room was filled not only with a pleasant fresh breeze but also the chirping of birds and the soft noises of a town that was slowly waking up. I didn't dwell on the beauties of the Italian summer, though; I no longer had any reason to revisit the past.

We had just woken up. We'd already seen that same scene countless times, our room filled with the sounds and light of six in the morning, only difference being that it was now the start of our day. We had no reason or energy to stay up all night anymore, and I was totally okay with it.

I narrowed my eyes when Elio came towards the bed to stand in front of me, shielding me from the sun. He ran a hand through my hair. “Good morning,” he said.

I grabbed his wrist, brought his hand to my lips and kissed it. “Good morning.”

“So are you staying today too?”

I sighed forcefully, feigning annoyance. He picked up on it and grinned.

“I wonder if you're going to keep asking me this every morning for the rest of our lives.”

Elio laughed heartily and knelt in front of me, crossed his arms on my legs and curled up there. Twenty years had passed since I first saw him, yet he still knew how to be the same young boy from that summer. I stroked his hair gently.

“ _For the rest of our lives?_ ” he finally said, repeating my words. “Bold words. You’re starting to make me believe that you really came to stay.” He raised his face to look at me, smile so wide and bright that I could hardly believe that I was the one who put it there.

I cupped his face and drew him towards me. I kissed his forehead, nose, cheeks, lips, his forehead again, ignoring the way he was tilting his neck to grant me access to his mouth, though eventually giving in and kissing him deeply, keeping it long and slow, because time held no power over us now. He wrapped his arms around my chest, and I spread my legs so that he could hold me as tightly as he wished.

When we parted to breath Elio pressed his forehead against mine. “Let's go swimming,” he suggested after a moment, his voice bright. Before I could reply, he pecked me on the lips and left to get ready.

I got up and followed him without hesitation.

_I need to lose you_   
_To come and look for you_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my day! ♥


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